15 Things 2: Lost Fluid Links
by RandomCheeses
Summary: The Doctor and Sam head to Cardiff to meet Captain Jack and end up dealing with an unstable rift. Because otherwise life would be boring.
1. Lost Fluid Links: Entry 11&12

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. If I did DoctorDonna would still be taking names and kicking Dalek ass! Damn you RTD! Damn you!

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_After getting back from Ancient Egypt and showering off the sand, you huddle up on the couch in your room. The Doctor is safely on the other side of the TARDIS doing maintenance so you decide to read more of the journal you found. Taking out the bookmark you left in earlier, you glance at the page. The writing is nearly illegible. As you read you discover why. _

**Entry 11: Arrival in Cardiff.**

You know where I am right now, while I'm writing this? I'm halfway up a bloody tree! In bloody Cardiff! You know how hard it is to write in a tree? (Note to self: I now hate Cardiff forever and ever.) With Captain Jack 'Anything-That-Moves' Harkness sitting on the branch below me making dirty suggestions! My GOD that man is. . .

Anyway. . . Why, you may ask, am I up a tree while writing in my Journal? Long story short, because the Doctor is a twat. (But if you've been travelling with him long enough that the TARDIS let you find my journal, then you already know _that_!) Oh great, here comes the damn dinosaur again. Just great.

But I guess I'd better explain things a little more, so that you know what's been happening and why, if the Doctor says "Uh, I've sort-of misplaced the fluid links" you should just head back to your room in the TARDIS, lock the door, and make an effort to put a serious dent in the Ice Cream supplies in the freezer. Do not let the Doctor convince you to help him search for those blasted fluid links! Just don't. You'll be much happier that way.

All right, all right, better get on with the story. If you've been reading from page one and haven't just flicked open this journal at random, then you'll know that previously on yada, yada, yada, the Doctor and I had a run in with some shapeshifting aliens made of mud with one hell of a superiority complex who wanted to do they same thing they did every night Pinky! Try to take over the WORLD!

Er. . . anyway, that little mess had been taken care of, and our prospective conquerors had been shipped home by their more peaceable contemporaries and were now busy in the exciting world of intergalactic postcard marketing. Yay.

You may also remember that the whole mess had been started by the fact that the TARDIS needed mercury to lubricate the fluid links, without which, any attempt to travel in the vortex would have caused the universe's weirdest explosion. Plus, random bits of He-Who-Gets-Too-Much-Notice-From-Omnicidal-Maniacs and me would have been scattered throughout time and space.

(Parts of us might have randomly ended up on your plate just as you were about to have dinner. Think about _that. _Hahahahaha!!!!!) .... Jack is totally wrong. I did not breathe any of the bad gas. I'm behaving completely normally. Why. . . is. . . page. . . twisty. . . .-------

**Edit: Sam will get back to this later. She's a little stoned right now. It's sort of cute. She keeps singing 'The wheels on the bus'. We used to sing that back when I was a little kid on the Boeshane Peninsula. Aww, bless. She's even doing the hand motions! I can't tell you how much I wish I had a camcorder right now! - CJH.**

**Entry 11: Cont'd**

OK. Disregard the last few sentences there. I _might_ have breathed in a little gas but I'm fine now. Really. Except for the stuck-in-a-tree-with-Jack part of the situation anyway. (Although I know some people who would love to be stuck up a tree with Jack.) Right, anyway, eventually we had gotten hold of some mercury, courtesy of Captain 'Casanova' Harkness. And then the Doctor had been poised at the TARDIS controls, ready to take us through time and space! Except, well, I was hungry so I expressed a desire to go to a chipper first.

So, y'know since I had sort of done most of the work and saved everyone from alien conquerors while the Doc was out cold in his pod-thingy, the Doctor agreed that we'd go to the chipper down the road first. This turned out to be a major mistake. Sitting down to eat chips leads to talking. Which leads to stupid suggestions that we should pop around to Cardiff to thank Jack for helping us. I'd only met him for about two minutes before the Doctor pushed me inside the TARDIS and decided to head off. So I was curious, you know?

Anyway, turns out, Jack travelled with the Doctor a while back, _'before satellite five'_. No, I don't know what that's all about. He-Who-Keeps-Altogether-Too-Many-Secrets wouldn't tell me. Apparently Jack now has a tendency to poach the Doctor's companions, so the Doc wasn't keen on going to Cardiff in case I decided to stay and work for Torchwood.

Important Note: Despite the fact that Torchwood is now run by Jack, the Doctor still can't say the word without looking bitter. From what I've managed to gather, it has something to do with the 'Rose-Issue'. You do Not talk to the Doctor about it. Ever. Okay? He can be surprisingly vindictive if you upset him. Talking about the 'Rose-Issue' will upset him. Guaranteed.

Anyway, I assured the Doctor that I had no intention of leaving the TARDIS, and working for Torchwood would still be _working._ For _wages._ Not just yet thank you! After I said that the Doctor cheered up a bit, and said "Why not? It'll be good to catch up with Jack. And I'd like to have a word with Gwen Cooper, wonder if she inherited anything else besides looks?"

"Er yeah, sure Doctor. So are we going or not?"

We did go to Cardiff obviously. Otherwise I wouldn't be stuck up this stupid tree listening to Jack sing 'The Hedgehog Song'. He's totally sober and gas free by the way. Apparently he just feels like singing. Anyway, there we were in the control room, the Doctor running around like mad, using his hands, feet, and occasionally the top of his head to trip various switches and levers. And then something starts to go wrong. The TARDIS started to _shriek_. Honest to God, she sounded like metal tearing in two.

The second this happened the Doctor said "Oh no, no, no, no, no, no! Sam, hold on tight. Emergency landing!" Hah. It was more of an emergency crash if you ask me. I'm still feeling a bit sick from it. As soon as we were on the ground safely the Doctor started cooing at the TARDIS, asking her what was wrong, and whacking various things with his hammer.

Well, we had managed to get to Cardiff. Just outside the millennium centre in Cardiff Bay. I staggered out of the TARDIS to be sick and was followed moments later by He-Who-Can't-Pilot-His-Own-Ship-For-Beans. According to Mr. Walking Fire Hazard, when he'd put the mercury in the fluid links (long grey cylinder thing which he was currently fiddling with) he hadn't recalibrated them properly. We'd been seconds away from being a TARDIS-Doctor-Sam kebab. Eurgh. . .

This information did not help me in my current status as the most nauseous girl in Cardiff. So I threw up. All over the Doctor's shoes. Again.

_Turning the page, you notice that a series of notes on torn bits of paper have been stapled to the next page. There are two sets of handwriting. You recognise one of them as Sam's rather scrawly penmanship, and the other which is elegant cursive as belonging to Captain Harkness from the last entry. Curious to see why he is making extensive edits to the journal you continue to read . . ._

**Entry 12: Captain Jack, Joint Editor**

List of things I hate:

1: Mud

2: Making-People-Crazy gas

3: Trees

4: Cardiff

5: Fluid links

6: Captain Jack Face-Of-Boe Harkness

7: The Doctor

8: Pterodactyls.

**Edit:** **Myfanwy is a Pteranodon! And you don't hate me. Everybody loves me. It's the jaw line, you know. - CJH**

Whatever Jack. If you want the right to edit the Journal of Things-That-May-Help-You-With-Life-As-A-Companion then you do not have the right to criticise my terminology. Got that?

**Got it. And it's _Captain _Jack, thank you. By the way, when you use the term 'Companion'. . . **

I don't mean it_ that_ way, Captain Jack Sparr- er, I mean Harkness. :P And . . . you watch Firefly? Really? I bet you have all the DVDs huh? Bet you're a Fillion-fan boy.

**It's a good show, OK? And is this coming from the girl who watches Angel and Buffy religiously? Hmm? Don't you have a journal entry to be writing anyway? And I can't believe you just wrote that. Do you have any idea how many times I've heard the Pirate Joke already? _Not_ Original! Y'know that joke would've made me kill Johnny Depp by now if he wasn't so darn hot. Mmm . . . Johnny . . . (To anyone reading this later, Sammy and I have to write down our conversation because it's hard to talk with a Breather Tube in your mouth. Damn gas.) **

It's Sam. Not Samantha. Not Sammy. Just Sam. You call me Sammy again, you lose editing rights! And your teeth.

**Sammi? ;)**

No! And to answer the Firefly question I saw season 7 of Buffy-

**Before you watched Firefly. Ahh. **

I can't help it. Every time I see Nathan Fillion I think Preacher Caleb instead of Captain Reynolds. It creeps me out!

Alrighty then, back to explaining how Jack and I came to be stuck up a tree, which is being dive-bombed by a pterodac

**----_Pteranodon! ---_**

Fine. A pteranodon. Anyway, as you will recall the Doctor and I had arrived at Cardiff with a crash when the TARDIS's fluid links gave up the ghost. And after I'd staggered outside I decided to 'feed the fishes' as they say. Only, most of it ended up on the Doctor's shoes. Which was not good because he loves those shoes. Anyway, the Doctor gave a disgusted wail and ran back into the TARDIS to change his shoes while I continued to cough up.

So I'm standing there, doubled over when I notice a pair of military boots moving into my field of vision. Next thing I know a large pair of hands is holding my hair for me while I cough the last of the stuff up. Then I straighten up. And notice the (let's be honest) totally gorgeous older guy in front of me in period military dress. And he's just seen me toss my lunch all over the pavement. What a sophisticated second impression I'm making! Oh yeah, suggesting we go to Cardiff was a _great_ idea. (If you don't notice the sarcasm here, then you're probably not human.)

**I knew you thought I was handsome!**

Uh Jack? Knowing that you're handsome and being attracted to you are two different things. Try not to mix them up. And no interrupting unless you've got something relevant to say.

Now then. There I was doing the great stare-at-the-ground-in-embarrassment manoeuvre when the Doctor, having changed his converse bounded out of the TARDIS and hugged Jack. Who hugged back _very_ enthusiastically (If-You-Know-What-I-Mean)? And then he pointed out that the red converse didn't really go with the brown suit. The Doctor looked a little bit miffed and started muttering to himself that people with motion sickness probably shouldn't be on the TARDIS because they kept damaging his shoes.

So I decided to distract them before He-Who-Never-Loses-His-Lunch told Jack in great detail about all the other times that TARDIS travel had made me spectacularly nauseous and very unpopular with the local species. Lucky for me distracting the Doctor is pretty easy. When the earth isn't in terrible danger he has a shorter attention span than a toddler.

So I suggested that since we were in Cardiff and Jack was with us, that he give us a tour of his base. The Doctor wasn't too keen at first but Jack piled on the charm and eventually he agreed. OK. I've got to say this right now. Torchwood has the coolest and the most stupid entrance in the world.

--**Stupid? Hey! Our lift rocks! --- **

Uh huh, see what the Sir Flirts-A-Lot is forgetting to mention is that it's an invisible lift. You stand on a particular flagstone outside the Millennium Centre and next thing you know you're descending into Torchwood Hub. Very cool. Except now there's a great big hole in the pavement. One day someone _is _going to fall in and then there'll be trouble.

---**That's what the retcon is for. ---**

Uh huh. Jack? Does the Doctor know you're erasing people's memories?

---**No. Let's keep it that way. ---**

Er yeah anyway, we descended into Torchwood Hub and got a very nice bird's eye view of the place. And to be honest it's a rather dank, dark looking place. The main computer is impressive though. And the boardroom is shiny. The Doctor . . . didn't look impressed. He's sort of predisposed to dislike Torchwood though. Anyway, once we touched down on ground level, Ianto Jones entered carrying a tray with two cups of coffee for me and Captain-Harassment and a cup of tea for He-Who-Drinks-More-Of-The-Stuff-Than-The-Entire-Population-Of-China. And my GOD it was good coffee. From here on out Ianto Jones shall be known as the God-Of-Coffee.

**---What about his tea making skills? They're good too. --- **

Yes Jack, but God-Of-Coffee-And-Associated-Beverages doesn't sound as snappy. (One more thing about Ianto Jones. The lucky sod is dating Jack. And unfortunately for those of you who are interested, the Almighty-Coffee-God doesn't like to share.)

So, we all adjourned the boardroom to drink our drinks, (as you do) and the Doctor and Jack started to have some kind of conversation in a personal private code that I am not privy to, mentioning such things as 'Bad-Wolf', 'The Game station' and 'Volcano day'.

To keep myself from getting bored I engaged Coffee-God in conversation. He knows _everything._ I mean it. Everything. He is also really cute. But unfortunately for me my conversation with God-Of-Coffee was cut short when a loud alarm sounded. Jack-Of-Hearts jumped to his feet and yelled dramatically "That's the rift warning! It's active!"

The Doctor just sipped his tea and then looked up at Jack and said "Really? That's interesting."

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**Captain Jack Harkness reporting for duty! We'd like some reviews! And anything else you want to show me! *wink***

Author: Jack! Stop it!


	2. Lost Fluid Links: Entry 13&14

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. But I do have a very nice poster.

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**Entry 13: Torchwood Base**

OK then, where was I? Oh yeah. Torchwood's Rift alarm had just gone off and was making that really annoying alarm sound. Like a car alarm only higher. And of course the Doctor was treating it as only mildly interesting, whereas Jack was running around dramatically yelling for his team to get him status reports. Or words to that effect. The hub's huge main computer had lit up like a Christmas tree and was going crazy. Part of it exploded.

The Doctor yawned, took out his screwdriver and soniced in the general direction of the main alarm. The noise stopped. I blinked. So did Jack. The King of Coffee and associated beverages didn't bat an eyelid. He just efficiently cleared up the mugs and went to talk to the last member of Team Torchwood, Gwen Cooper-Williams, who had appeared in the hub's work area as soon as the alarm went off.

"So" the Captain said, drawing out the word, "is that it then? Crisis averted?"

The Doctor looked at him in surprise. "What? Oh, no, the rift's still active and at dangerously high levels judging from the readings I'm getting on the sonic."

Jack returned the Doctor's look of surprise. "Then why did you shut off the alarm?"

The Universe's Biggest Show-off sniffed. "Well it _was_ annoyingly loud Jack. How are you supposed to think with something like that banging in your ear?" And then he dashed out of the room and down to the hub's main area. The Captain glared after him. I guess he didn't like people messing with his alarm.

**-As a matter of fact, no I don't. -JH**

Anyway, Jack and I ran after the Doctor and found him looking at the readouts coming from the mechanical monstrosity that is Torchwood Three's central computer. I swear, it's like that thing's alive.

**--It is. Semi-sentient anyway. --**

Oh. Well, whatever._ Anyway_ as I was saying, He-Who-Claims-To-Know-Everything-About-Everything was hunched over a particular console looking at an impressive looking graph-thingy. Gwen and Coffee-God were peering over his shoulders. As per usual when there are people around to impress with his intelligence He-Who-Is-An-Enormous-Poser had pulled out his fake glasses and put them on. Tosser. Some of us happen to actually _need_ glasses. Honestly its . . .

---**Sam, I think you're going off track again. -**

Oh, all right, fine. But he's still a poser. Uh, anyway like I said the Doctor was looking at lots of info on a computer screen. Hearing us, he glanced round, gave me a 'what took you so long' Look and announced that there'd just been a massive spike in rift activity. Then Gwen interrupted saying that there were reports coming in of small explosions in various areas of Cardiff. Ianto added that most of these were where small pieces of rift-junk happened to be.

(--**Note**: **Anything that comes through the rift that isn't important or interesting or big enough for us to bother with is rift junk. We tend to leave it where it is. --**)

The Doctor nodded at Gwen and Ianto and pointed out that since the energy spike was affecting any stuff that had come through the rift, then by rights Torchwood Hub, as the largest concentrated collection of rift stuff in the whole city, should've been blown sky high. We all looked at the Doctor in alarm and he hurriedly told us not to worry, that since the TARDIS was parked smack bang on top of the hub, she'd absorbed most of the energy in the immediate area.

(N.B. When the TARDIS does stuff like absorb lots of rift energy, she has to burn off a lot of excess on the first flight afterwards. Don't be surprised if she suddenly starts doing loop-de-loops in the vortex.

--**It's the only time the bad landing can't be blamed on the Doc**--

Heh, yeah.

I took advantage of the ensuing silence to introduce myself to Gwen, who said hi and shook my hand. She seemed pretty nice. According to Jack, Gwen used to be a police constable before being recruited into Torchwood. She's got a husband, Rhys, who not only knows about all the crazy stuff in her job and doesn't mind, but puts up with the crazy hours and insane explanations as well.

Personally I think Jack has a little crush on the guy. According to the Doctor, Gwen has the exact same face as a 19th century relative due to the rift causing a spatial genetic multiplicity effect. He mentioned this while Gwen was saying hi to me. She said "Um right . . ." and attempted not to look as if she thought he was crazy.

The Doctor then decided to mention that there had been two other spikes of rift activity in different areas of Cardiff just before the big explody one. He suggested we split up and check them out. I hate when he does that. Splitting up usually leads to unpleasant experiences such as jail cells and aliens pointing space-guns at your head. Staying close to the Doctor is better. Hey, if all else fails you can duck behind him. The Doctor suggested that I go with Jack to one area while he and Gwen checked out the other. I looked at the Doctor in surprise; as for some reason I have yet to figure out he is usually loathe to let me go off without him.

Ianto volunteered to stay behind to repair the central computer and do the whole 'mission control' thing, so that we could keep in contact. Jack gave He-Of-The-Spiky-Hair a suspicious look and the Doctor explained that since Cardiff streets had changed somewhat since the last time he was here it would be better if both teams had someone who knew their way around.

Cardiff's being rebuilt a bit lately. Some complete nutcase set off a lot of bombs in the city last year.

**--His name's John Hart. If you run into him don't let him kiss you. --**

Uh, right Jack, thanks for that oh-so valuable info**.**

**--Because he uses poisonous paralysing lip-gloss as a weapon-- **

Ah . . .right, that _is _valuable info. Sorry.

Anyway luckily for me, Jack called dibs on the SUV. It's a huge black range-rover with the word 'Torchwood' stencilled rather prominently on the front. What I want to know is: if Torchwood was a quasi-secret institution before 2006, why does a 2005 SUV used by the organisation have the word smack on the front of the car where no one could fail to notice it. Jack refused to answer when I asked him.

The Doctor and Gwen got stuck with Gwen's car. It's not a bad car or anything it's just sort of small. And the Doctor's a tall guy. Gwen told me later that he spent the drive out to the rift-spike site complaining about the lack of space. I'd thought that he and Gwen would take the TARDIS but Jack had asked him to leave the ship where she was in order to protect the hub from any further unexpected spikes of rift energy and the Doctor had agreed. So we split up. And I was right. Unpleasant things happened. For starters Jack and I drew the short straw. We had to check out the spike site in Splott.

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**Entry 14: Splott and a special guest**

Y'know what life is like? Life is like being a dung beetle. You push a big ball of dung around all day. It gets bigger and bigger and then it rolls off to god-knows-where. Or whatever, I don't really know what happens after that. The Doctor dislikes the discovery channel. Every time I'm watching it he finds an excuse to switch off the TV. The Doctor says there's no point in just watching things on TV, that if I wanted to see dung beetles he could take me to see dung beetles.

(Although there is apparently no reason short of the end of the multiverse that will get him to interrupt his viewing of Oprah. That's right, oh future companion. Your astonishing mysterious new alien friend will sulk like there's no tomorrow if he misses an episode of Oprah. Doesn't seem so mysteriously attractive _now_, does he?)

He-Who-Insists-On-A-Limited-Wardrobe has, of course, completely missed the point. I'm only interested in dung beetles if they're on the TV screen. I don't actually want to get within fifty feet of them. TV makes interesting the things that we would normally avoid like the plague. TV even makes the plague interesting. And I've just re-read what I wrote. I swear there was a decent metaphor in there somewhere and that I had a poignant and deep revelation about the reality of travelling with the Doctor and how it affects your life.

Only now, all that comes to mind is the episode of House M.D. where that patient had bubonic plague. That's what being stuck up a tree, that's still being dive-bombed by a pteranodon, while you breathe recycled air from a 31st century breath mask to avoid a second round of rift gas poisoning, does to your mental state. The close proximity of one Captain Jack Harkness is not helping either. He's still singing the hedgehog song. I didn't even know it had that many verses.

Anyway, I think I'd just come to the part of the story where we'd all been split into teams and sent off to random parts of Cardiff. Jack and I had been paired together and sent off to Splott i.e. Godforsaken-part-of-Cardiff. On the plus side, I got to ride in the Torchwood SUV. Now I know that SUV's are big and annoying to other motorists, not to mention really bad in the greenhouse gases department, but the second I sat in the front passenger seat I really couldn't have cared less. Why? Because the Torchwood SUV, despite the unfortunate stencilling on the front, is _the _coolest car I have ever had the luck to sit in.

Leather covered seats, great radio reception, in-built TV (which gets every single channel existing) and more shiny buttons than you can shake a stick at. Plus The-Almighty-God-Of-Beverages keeps it spotlessly clean. Oh yeah, it's a cool car. It also has some kind of satellite tracking system that shows with exact precision where there have been rift spikes. Which is why, after just 10 minutes of extremely reckless driving we ended up on the back of a housing estate in Splott.

Please Note: While it is true that Jack is an excellent driver, he is not a very patient one. If he thinks cutting across lanes in the middle of heavy traffic will shave a few seconds off the journey time, then he will cut across. Of course, this is the kind of behaviour that would normally get you killed, cause a fifty-car pile-up, and generally annoy a lot of people. Somehow Jack seems to get away with it. There are a lot of close calls, but he never actually crashes. Or scrapes the paintwork. It's like some kind of magic.

Travel a lot with Jack however, and I'm pretty sure you'll soon become obsessed with putting seatbelts on anything that looks remotely chair-like. You will also spend a lot of time with your hands over your eyes, screaming things like: "Watch out for that car/pedestrian/fire hydrant/wall/etc!!" In short, it is a nerve-wracking experience. So you can't really blame me for having to breathe into a paper bag once we got out of the SUV.

Jack dragged an odd looking silver device out of his coat pocket. It was making an annoying 'Beep!' noise at regular intervals so I guessed it was some kind of tracking device, or radar-thingamajig. Sure enough, after adjusting the dials on it and waving it slowly in a circle, Jack spun on his heel and threw his arm out to point dramatically towards a bit of grass/field area behind the houses. It looked like the place that teenagers on estates tended to gather. Wire barrier, tall grass, some gravel and a broken, rusted goalpost at one end, near a high wall of cement blocks. In other words, the perfect place to go in order to chug down alcohol and fill your lungs with smoke.

"Signal's coming from that direction," Jack half-shouted. Then he tore off down the street, his coat billowing impressively. I think he must've got his coat from the same place as the Doctor. It's like an unalterable fact: Should the Doctor (or Captain Jack) ever start running somewhere then their coats _will_ billow dramatically. Even in zero gravity or a vacuum. Some kind of universal rule I guess. Mind you, the Doctor claims he got his coat from Janis Joplin. Eh, maybe she was secretly an alien fashion designer . . .

Anyway, I ran after Jack as fast as I could. He'd already reached the grass area and had jumped over the barrier like a professional athlete in a hurdle race, the lousy show-off. Yours truly, on the other hand, had to yell at him to wait up so that she could hang onto his arm while swinging her leg over the wire. It was at that annoying height that is too low to crawl under, but too high to easily step over. So there I was, balancing on one foot with my leg half over the wire and my arms outstretched to stay upright when Jack got back over to me and decided there was an easier way.

Before I could blink he had reached over and caught me around the waist. All I managed to do was cry out a shocked "Whoa!" before Jack lifted me up bridal-style and walked away from the fence. He put me down after a few yards, did a semi-formal bow and grinned at me.

"Milady" he said, inclining his head. He looked pretty satisfied with himself, so I don't think he was expecting me to grab his collar, pull his head down, look him in the eyes and growl "_Never. Do that. Again._" in a tone of utter fury that would've made Wolverine proud. (I have mild personal space issues.)

Just then Jack's wrist strap started to beep and we froze. A blue hologram of the Doctor appeared and started to speak. "This isn't anything really important Jack" it said, looking off sideways at something we couldn't see, "but I forgot to warn you. If you have to grab Sam to pull her out of the way of some thing dangerous you should try to give her a bit of a warning first. She's very touchy about boundaries and personal space and tends to react badly when surprised. Well, not badly as such, she does adjust quickly to surprises. I guess 'reacts violently' would be more correct."

Turning slightly, the hologram-Doctor's eyes focused on us (or I assume the hologram we were projecting at the other end) and he gave a nervous grin. "But I see you've already figured that out. Um . . . see you two later, contact me if you run into anything unusual, bye now!" And the hologram winked off. We unfroze and I let go of Jack's collar.

"Yeah, thanks Doc" he muttered to the air. "You couldn't have told me that five minutes ago?"

Jack tends to follow the Doctor's example in certain social situations. So, like the Doctor, he gets over awkward moments by ignoring the fact that they actually happened. Without even mentioning my sudden and unfortunate morph into Psycho-Sam, he started to walk towards the rift spike site while talking about his favourite places to go when travelling by TARDIS. By the time we'd got to the cement-block wall at the other edge of the grass area Jack was listing his favourite 42nd century restaurants and advising me on what dishes to choose. That was when the scanner in Jack's hand went crazy and started to beep non-stop.

To our mutual surprise the wind picked up and a familiar groaning sound filled the air. "I thought the Doctor was leaving the TARDIS back at the Hub?" I said to Jack, feeling very confused. Jack shrugged, indicating that in his experience, the Doctor didn't always do exactly what he said he was going to do. A moment later the confused feeling was something we had in common. The TARDIS had appeared all right. But it was wrong.

Jack looked down at me, confusion written all over his face "Um I know I haven't seen the old girl for a while" he said cautiously, "but last time I checked, she looked like a blue police phone box, not a yellow cabana . . ."

I nodded, confirming the blueness and phoneboxness of the Doctor's TARDIS. Jack instantly became very serious and told me to get behind him. He drew his gun with his left hand, hiding it in the long sleeve of his coat. Just as he was about to call out to the occupant of the _other_ TARDIS, the front door opened. A tall young woman with red hair stepped through the doorway. She caught sight of us and blinked, expressions of shock, surprise, disbelief, and eventually delight, running across her face. She smiled happily at Jack, who automatically gave her a charming flirty grin, just on principle.

"I'm Capta . . ." he started to say, before she spoke across him. "Captain Jack Harkness" she said happily, smiling at Jack's surprise. "I wasn't expecting to see you here." She frowned slightly at us as if she'd expected a certain reaction and hadn't got it. "And I can see from your face that you don't recognise me at all. I suppose it's possible that I don't exist here. Or perhaps I just never met you."

The red-haired woman smiled mysteriously at us and I started to get annoyed. Mostly because she was way better looking than me. I'm not vain or anything, but just once I'd like to come across a mysterious female from outer-space who _wasn't _drop dead gorgeous and taller than me. "Look lady" I said hotly, "who the hell are you and how do you have a TARDIS?"

The redheaded supermodel from space did the mysterious-smile thing again. "Of course" she said in an (wouldn't you know it) exotic sounding accent, "how rude of me. My name is Wil Beinert. It's a pleasure to meet you."

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Our special guest this week is borrowed with kind permission by Laura Harkness. Anyone who hasn't checked out her Doctor Who stories featuring Wil should do so immediately, as they are full of more awesomeness than you can fit in a can. Read and Review please.


	3. Lost Fluid Links: Entry 15&16

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. If I did I'd be getting paid for posting this.

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_You open a new section of the journal and are surprised to see stapled-in typewritten pages. To your surprise, at the corner of each page is the Torchwood logo. _

Hi! Gwen Cooper/Williams here! I don't suppose Jack will mind me using official stationary to type this up. After all, he was the one who told me Sam wanted a written record of what happened when the Doctor and I went to investigate the second rift-spike site. Apparently she doesn't trust the Doctor to give her a reliable account. Can't say I blame her, to be honest.

He's a lovely bloke, for an alien, but he does seem to have a tendency to exaggerate a lot. Also, I'm not sure he's entirely sane. But I suppose we'd all be a little loopy after nine hundred years. Still hard to believe that actually. If I hadn't known Jack first, I'm not sure I'd've believed the Doctor when he told me his age. I wonder what brand of moisturiser he uses . . .

But anyway, back to the report. Or story I suppose. This isn't exactly like writing reports after a regular mission. Not that there's ever anything regular about anything to do with Torchwood. Oh well. Here we go then.

The Doctor and I had been lucky when choosing spike sites. Jack and poor Sam had drawn the short straw and been sent to Splott, whereas the Doctor and I were heading for an area nearer the bay and therefore lot classier. Of course, the downside to that was that it was a lot busier too. It wasn't exactly the city centre, but there were a lot of people around all the same.

Bit of advice for any prospective Torchwood employees who might read this: civilians are a pain. Get rid of them any way you can, otherwise they have a distressing tendency to end up dead, leaving you feeling guilty and frustrated.

**Oi! No recruiting for Torchwood using my companion's diary! - D**

Sorry. It's just that someone who's travelled that widely would have valuable experi-

**I said stop it! -D**

Sorry. Won't happen again.

**Good. Or I'll topple your organisation. Again. - D**

So, moving on, we headed towards the site in my car 'cause Jack had called dibs on the SUV again, big kid that he is. Honestly, men and their toys . . . The Doctor spent the whole ride over tinkering with the tracker with his screwdriver thing and complaining about the lack of headroom. Eventually I got fed up and told him to be grateful he wasn't built like Jack and was at least skinny enough to fold himself up. That shut him up for all of five minutes. Then he got a panicked look on his face and muttered something about forgetting to warn Jack about the personal space issue. (Hah! As if Jack would ever listen to anything about personal space without fitting at least five innuendos into his answer!)

Anyway, when the Doctor managed to get hold of Jack he'd already made the big social faux pas and was being held in a rather impressive stranglehold for someone of Sam's build. The Doctor closed off the hologram pretty fast and then the two of us had a good laugh at Jack's expense.

(I hope he never reads this or I'll be on weevil-cell cleaning duty for ages!) Once we'd parked the car and the Doctor made some remarks about the state of his spine, which I consider rude, we headed off in the direction the tracker was indicating.

**Was I being rude again? Oh. Sorry Gwyneth. I mean Gwen. - D**

(I wish he'd stop messing up my name. He seems pretty thick for someone who saved the universe.)

The spike site itself turned out to be round the back of a chip shop. The youngster at the counter started babbling about how the bins had spontaneously exploded that morning and the manager had nearly called in the bomb squad. Before I could even get a word in edgewise explaining that I was with Torchwood and we'd take care of it, the Doctor produced a wallet with a blank piece of paper on it and told the lad we were from the local tidy towns committee. Somehow he seemed to get away with it and the young lad showed us out the back. Things went downhill from there.

As soon as the young lad went back inside the Doctor pulled out the tracker device he'd been tinkering with and waved it around. The effect it had was immediate. The one bin that had survived the previous ruckus exploded, it's top popping off like a cork from champagne. Something slimy and scaly flew over our heads, snarling as it went. It snatched something off the Doctor and dashed off down an alleyway with the two of us running after it like lunatics.

"My fluid links!" the Doctor roared as we ran. Unfortunately after a couple of sharp twists and turns we lost it. Whatever it was, the archives couldnt identify it and the Doctor didn't seem familiar with it either. It kind of reminded me of the small dinosaur from Jurassic Park. But meaner.

**Ooh! I love that film! Totally inaccurate rubbish, but brilliant! - D.**

So now he's a dinosaur expert? Is there anything he doesn't know?

_Ed. Note: Yes. He hasn't the first idea how to cook fairy cakes. The oven exploded. My brother threatened me with bodily harm if I ever brought the Walking-Disaster into his kitchen again. It does not pay to upset a baker. Remember that. - Sam_

Anyway, the Doctor went straight back to his scanning, while I stood there looking around for any visible clues to the cause of the whole mess. But apart from spotting a tricodan flight control that had somehow made it's way through the rift and into the underside of a windowsill I didn't find anything relevant to the mission. Meanwhile the Doctor was scanning away with his fancy tech when it suddenly started to beep like billy-oh. The Doctor scowled at it in confusion for a second. And then he went pale. Really pale. Like Jack after that business with Bilis Manger. He looked utterly freaked out.

"Impossible! That. Is. Impossible. It can't be. It just can't. It makes no sense! I'd have known!" After a few minutes I got tired of him squawking like one of Rhys' nephews and caught him by the arm.

"For heaven's sake Doctor! Take a deep breath. Okay? Now calm down and tell me what's happened."

He looked at me, still pale and shaking, looking like he'd got the biggest shock of his life. "The spike site where Sam and Jack are," he said. "A Tardis just landed there. Another Tardis."

I gave him a confused look. "You mean . . . you in a future Tardis?"

He shook his head in bewilderment. "No. It's not me. It's not my Tardis. Only a TimeLord could pilot a Tardis. There's only one left. But now there isn't! It's impossible!" The Doctor was becoming half-hysterical. An almost frightened look entered his eye, which scared the bejeezus out of me, because from what I'd seen when the Daleks attacked, and from what Jack had told me, this skinny stick of a man had stood up, to alien emperors, human monsters, and godlike beings from across time and space without blinking an eyelid. And now he was looking _scared._

He'd gone so pale now and his eyes were unfocused as if he was remembering something. "No," I heard him say under his breath, "it can't be him! It can't! He burned, not even he could . . ." His head jerked towards me and I jumped back, a little alarmed. "Sam!" he yelled. "We've got to get to Jack and Sam. Now!" And then he grabbed my hand, haring back towards the car. "Gwen" he yelled as we legged it, "get us to Splott as fast as you can. Don't waste any time! Every second is crucial. Jack can't be killed, but Sam is in serious danger!"

_The typewritten sheets end here and when you turn the page Sams scrawly writing has resumed._

* * *

**Entry 16: Universe in Terrible Danger As Usual**

You want to know something interesting? It's been two hours. Captain Jack has finished singing the hedgehog song and moved onto something that reminds me of the Village People. The Doctor, needless to say, is nowhere in sight. Hah! Back in half an hour, my ass! Furthermore, I'm_ still_ stuck in a tree. I'm really starting to hate Cardiff. If that damn dinosaur gets close again, I swear, I'm going to clock it across the beak with this journal.

Anyway, I might as well get back to telling the story, seeing as it doesn't look like the Walking-Natural-Disaster is going to turn up any time soon. When he does turn up_, then_ there'll be trouble. I've got _plans_. And if a certain immortal time agent knows what's good for him, he will _not _be giving the Doctor any warnings.

**-Duly noted Sam.-CJH. **

Good. It's damn hard to catch the Doctor off guard.

Right then, as you know, 'cos I just mentioned it in the last entry; He-Of-The-Impressively-Heroic-Looking-Coat and I had got to the site of an abnormally high spike of rift energy in Splott. And then we'd run into a gorgeous looking redhead with a Tardis.

Name: Wil Beinert

Which of course made us very suspicious, because as you should know if you've been travelling long enough with the Doctor, _the _Tardis is just that. The Tardis. Singular. Last of the Time Lords, last of the Tardis's. So, coming across another one would naturally make you just a little suspicious.

Now, I'll be honest with you, I wasn't exactly polite to our new acquaintance. My attitude tends to be: seen one alien space-babe, seen them all. Plus I have this tiny little chip on my shoulder when it comes to girls who are better looking than me. Which the space-babes invariably are.

Seriously, I've never seen an ugly one. Never. They're _all_ beautiful. It really makes you feel inadequate sometimes. Also, I was pretty sure that she was going to end up kissing the Doctor. That's something else they have a distressing tendency towards.

Of course, normally I would not care who other people go around kissing, (and before you make any unfortunate assumptions I certainly _don't_ want the Doc interested in _me_) but on the last two occasions that our heroic show-off gracefully accepted the grateful kiss of the beautiful-alien-of-the-week he a) was almost fatally poisoned by some sort of natural toxin that occurs in the lips of Princess Ayla's people, and b) became extremely drunk after ingesting the compound that the Lady Cerina's people smear on their faces. Totally harmless to the natives, but causes intoxication when swallowed by Time Lords. And given the unstable nature of the rift I didn't think we could afford for the Doctor to be off his head right then.

So next time he steals your drink and claims that intoxicants don't affect the 'higher lifeforms' mutter the words: 'Cerina' and 'Planet of Ghirai' in his ear and watch him go purple and choke on his (your) drink. Make sure you know the Heimlich manoeuvre first though, okay?

Brilliant rational for not trusting this 'Wil', along with the impossible fact of her owning a Tardis, right? One problem. Jack did a scan of her before she finished introducing herself. She was completely human. A little weird maybe, a few odd energy signatures, but totally human. And absolutely no chameleon arch in sight. No suspicious looking pocket watches either.

Still, it made me feel better. I don't mind being outshined by a member of my own species. Well, not as much. (Okay, yes, I'm being a little specieist. But I've been sitting on an uncomfortable tree branch for the last hour, and I briefly inhaled crazy-gas. I'm not at my best right now. So sue me.)

Anyway, after Wil introduced herself, she jumped straight into the 'I bring you a warning of terrible danger' speech. Bloody typical. Nobody ever just wants to make contact just to say hi. The world always has to be in terrible danger. I suppose I could write down the whole conversation we had verbatim, but to be honest with you that'd be just too tedious. So I'll give you the general drift. 'Kay?

According to Wil, she was from another reality, where she had worked with Torchwood 3 and run into the Doctor and Rose (Remember: Do Not Talk About Rose.), who also existed in that universe. Anyway, various stuff had happened and Wil had somehow ended up in a different universe with her very own Tardis. Further stuff had happened, meaning that Wil had to get back to her own universe from the other universe. But on the way, she'd taken a metaphorical wrong turn and ended up in our universe instead. Are you confused yet? I was.

Also, Jack was freaking out over the whole *hopping between realities* thing. The last time someone did that they nearly destroyed all realities. Plus there were Daleks involved. He really hates those psychotic pepper pots.

Note that this didn't stop Jack from flirting outrageously with Wil during the course of the conversation. Nothing short of a crowbar to the head stops Jack Harkness from flirting. And since he's immortal now . . . well, you get what I'm saying. Wil seemed to find the whole Heroic-Captain thing more amusing than anything else though.

The explosions connected to the rift, Wil admitted, had inadvertently been her fault. Returning to her reality in her Tardis (who she had inexplicably named 'Grasshopper') she had attracted the attention of an unspecified 'something' which 'existed in the dark between realities' and had followed her to our reality, using the rift as some sort of conduit. Hence the random explosions. All very ominous and prophetic sounding.

I hate that, so I pointedly asked if she was going to say 'from beneath you it devours'. To her credit, Wil showed a sense of humour and denied it with a laugh. I liked her marginally better after that.

She then mentioned the fact that the spatial genetic multiplicity effect had really done a number on Captain John Hart. Jack stared at her in shock. I looked at her blankly until she explained that the man in question had an extreme resemblance to one of his ancestors, a James Marsters. Then I remembered where I'd heard the names before.

"Wait a minute, the guy who blew up bits of Cardiff looks like _Spike?_"

Wil sighed in resignation. "Oh dear. Did his counterpart here also do that? How disappointing."

That was when we heard car tyres screeching. Jack and I spun around and did a very good impression of a Synchronised Staring in Shock Squad. It was Gwen's car. And she was in the passenger seat. The Doctor was actually _driving._ I swear to God, it's a sign of the apocalypse.

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Chibi!10 would like reviews. Chibi!Gwen wants out of the car. Now.


	4. Lost Fluid Links: Entry 17&18

Disclaimer: Not mine.

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**Entry 17: Discussion on the nature of reality**

So . . . where was I? Oh, right. Now I remember. Captain 'The-Gas-Masked-Zombies-Were-_Not_-My-Fault' Harkness and I had just tracked down the source of the rift spikes. It turned out to be a rather stunning redhead from another universe (but not the universe she'd just come from. A different one.

Oh, just go back and read the last entry OK? Trying to keep the whole thing straight gives me a migraine.) Despite being human, she had somehow acquired her own Tardis. Oh, and she'd accidentally brought some rather nasty things from the Void with her when taking a detour into our universe. Whoop-de-doo.

And as if all that wasn't bad enough, Gwen had actually let the Doctor behind the steering wheel of a car. Huh. To think that I'd pegged her as the levelheaded one of the three Torchwood members. Obviously I've made a serious misjudgement there.

**-Be fair Sam, it's not like she's had much experience with the Doctor-.**

OK, yes, normally I'd take that into account. But Gwen's had, what? Two years of all the crazy Torchwood stuff. Including dealing with a certain aggravating Time-Agent who shall remain nameless. She's supposed to be smart.

-**You've met Capt. John? When? - **

Aaargh! I was talking about you, you idiot!

**-Hey! I'm not aggravating! Captivating maybe, but never aggravating ;-)-**

I give up. I'm just not going to win this conversation. I can tell.

The point is, she ought to know better than to hand the keys of a car to the Doctor. He's listed as Torchwood's number one enemy isn't he? Doesn't what remains of your organisation have any kind of _accurate_ information on him. Like: Caution! Keep away from sugar! And: Warning! Do not harm people he likes!

**-Nope. It's pretty much limited to: Enemy! Arrest on sight. Shoot if necessary. I haven't got around to changing the charter yet. -**

Geez! I'd've thought that would be the first thing you did when you took over. What_ have_ you been doing?

**-Ianto-**

Huh? _Oh_ . . . JA-ACK!

**-You're cute when you're embarrassed ;-)-**

Okay. As of now the Captain's editing privileges have been revoked. I refuse to carry on a written conversation with a man whose mind never leaves the gutter.

Anyway, to get back to what I was writing about before, Jack and I had just met Wil Beinert and got a semi-reasonable explanation for the explosions and sudden increase in rift energy, when Gwen and the Doctor arrived in Gwen's car. With He-Who-Couldn't-Pass-The-Driving-Test-For-His-Own-Damn-Ship behind the wheel. Cue general shock and disbelief. (Seriously, even Wil a.k.a she-of-the-universe-jumping was staring with her mouth open.)

Typically of course, the Doctor jumped out of the car, took one look at the lot of us and said "Close your mouths before you catch flies." Patronising pain in the neck that he is. Gwen, on the other hand, got out of the car with an expression of intense relief and staggered over to the nearest ditch to throw up. Lesson learned, I think.

While Gwen was er_, busy_, shall we say, the Doctor was looking around wildly, eyes wide, with a rather confused expression on his face. Then his gaze settled on Wil's TARDIS. Slowly, as if he was in some sort of trance, the Doctor walked up to it (her?) and placed his hand on the doorframe. His eyes closed for a few seconds, and his expression became impossibly relaxed. He was so still that for a second I half-thought he was dead. Then his eyes bugged open and he jerked back from the bright yellow doorframe as if he'd been burned.

"What?" he yelled, shocked.

I groaned internally. It's _never_ good when he shouts that word. In fact, the more times he says it and the louder his voice is, the worse a situation tends to be. I happen to remember a world we visited where He-Who-Is-Useless-Without-His-Screwdriver ended up saying 'what' fourteen times in rapid succession. At the top of his voice. Needless to say, things got very . . . unpleasant. So much so, in fact, that Kadron now has a permanent place on the Doctor's Big List Of Planets Never To Visit Again. Tm. (Yes, he actually trade marked it. Don't ask me why.)

While I was contemplating heading for the hills before the Doctor had a chance to top his personal 'What?' total, the man himself had marched over to Wil and looked her right in the eye with all the Time Lord impressiveness he could muster. Which is a heck of a lot by the way. For a skinny guy in a suit, he can sure be awe-inspiring when he wants.

"Explanation. Now." the Doctor demanded of the tall redhead.

Wil raised an elegant eyebrow at him. I so wish I could do that. The Doctor does it all the time, and Captain Jack's pretty damn good at it. I would be so much cooler if I could do the eyebrow thing. I used to try practising it in the mirror, but the Doctor caught me at it once and asked if I wanted to visit New New York in order to "fix that nerve spasm above your eye. Could get painful if you don't get it looked at." Thanks Doctor. Thanks very much. Mortify me, why don't you?

I've just spent the last paragraph talking about eyebrows, haven't I? Now I know I've been stuck in this tree too long.

Anyway, after showing that like all mysterious beautiful women, she was impossibly cooler than me and my defective eyebrows, Wil gave the Doctor a curious look and said in her cultured voice, "You have just spoken with Grasshopper. Surely she has explained to you everything you were wondering about when you vaulted out of that car like your tail was on fire?"

The Doctor blinked at her in surprise and shot a glare at me when I started snickering. It's not every day you see the Doctor lost for words. Trust me, enjoy it when it happens. He recovered himself pretty quickly though and used his patented look, which says I-Am-Of-The-Most-Ancient-Race-In-The-Universe-And-I-Pass-Judgement-On-The-So-Called-Mighty.

He uses it a lot when he's trying to be intimidating to people he's not sure of. All the knowledge, power, raw dangerousness and the pompous TimeLordyness that he usually hides goes into it. It scared the hell out of me the first time I saw it. Still does.

Note: If he ever turns it on you for any reason, (I was going to give the thing back, honest!) then make sure you stare right back and give the impression that you could go on staring all day. It'll get you quite a bit of respect. Or I suppose you could do what I did and accidentally throw beer in his hair. That also wipes the look off his face quick enough. 'Course then you'll have to listen to him complain about smelling like a brewery for hours on end. (Annoying doesn't cover it. Believe me.)

Wil, to my frank amazement, succeeded in eyeballing the Doctor to such an extent that the 'Mighty-Time-Lord look' drained off his face like yesterday's dishwater. All three of us (Gwen had finished feeding the fishes) were very impressed.

The Doctor also seemed to gain some respect for our mysterious new friend. He still wasn't happy though.

"Alright" he admitted. "You're not who I thought you were. But the images your, your . . . TARDIS gave me . . . They're impossible. They have to be!"

"Oh?" Wil inquired in her accented voice. "And why is that?"

"I'd like to know too," I added. "What did'ja see Doctor? Why're you so upset?"

The Doctor turned abruptly, like he was just noticing the rest of us were there. Then he looked at me with an odd expression on his face. A sort of confused sadness.

"Me" he said. "I saw another me."

Jack blinked. "What? You mean Wil's from Pete's world?"

The Doctor shook his head. "No Captain," he explained, "Wil's not from that universe. Her universe had another me in it. A Time Lord me. And you actually, as your immortal self. And . . . Rose. Another Rose who became the Bad Wolf."

The second I heard the name 'Rose' I started paying way more attention. Call me stupid, but I've always been a wee bit curious about the fabled Rose. It's kinda hard to get information about her, 'cause remember: Do Not Talk About Rose. So I store up all the titbits of information I occasionally get. I'll work out the full story one day.

The Doctor also nodded in Gwen's direction. "There was another you there too, PC Cooper," he informed her. "Not to mention that lad back at your base who makes the excellent tea. What was his name again?"

"Ianto." Jack supplied.

"Ah, yes." The Doctor nodded. Then he looked at me. I put up my hand to stop him.

"Don't tell me," I said. "The me that was there died in a horrible gory way and that's why you look . . . well, normally I'd say like your dog just died, but you keep making new K-9s."

To my surprise the Doctor shook his head. "No" he said quietly. "I don't know anything about the you in Wil's universe. There's detailed information on Torchwood, and the other me and . . . Rose. Not to mention a lot of things I still need explained. But you Sam, Grasshopper didn't have any record of you at all."

"Well, that's just depressing. Maybe alternate-me died a gory death before she had the chance to meet you." I grinned out of perversity.

Wil blinked at me. "You sound . . . disturbingly enthusiastic."

I shrugged at her. "I'm weird. It's a character flaw."

"No kidding." The Doctor muttered, momentarily forgetting his melancholy.

"Hey! I heard that!"

* * *

**Entry 18: Stressed out Time Lord**

Hallelujah! I'm finally out of that damn tree and back in my nice safe room on the TARDIS. Note to self: Avoid Cardiff like the plague from now on. Clearly the city has it out for me. Every time I end up there, either something goes horribly wrong, I get shot, or I end up covered in some foul-smelling slime. Cardiff obviously has something against me. Like some kind of evil sentient building, only it covers a lot more ground. So from now on, I'm staying out of it.

But whatever, back to the story, right?

Where was I . . .? Oh. Right. The Doctor had just found out that there was a parallel him in Wil's universe and for some reason it had really freaked him out. I couldn't really figure out why, 'cos he didn't seem at all fazed about the idea of parallel universes the time I'd asked him about it over chips a few months ago. He'd been all dismissive then, casually mentioning the fact that there were loads of them. So why he was bothered now, I really couldn't tell. I was about to find out though.

Wil a.k.a. mysterious-beautiful-redhead was looking interestedly at the Doctor. She seemed to be considering something, although I couldn't tell you what. Face like a closed book, that girl. Impossible to read. Anyway she walked up to He-Who-Attracts-Beautiful-Women-Like-Flies and asked, "Why are you so perturbed at the possibility of an alternate-self Doctor? You seem to have no problem with an alternate universe or alternate versions of your friends, so why does the existence of my Doctor upset you so?"

The Doctor shrugged and gave a fragile grin. "Probably because the possibility flies in the face of everything I ever learned in school. Well, I say school, but the Academy was more of a . . ." He trailed off and shrugged again. "Anyway it doesn't matter, obviously what I learned was wrong. Rassilon would be irritated no doubt, but we've got more important things to discuss right now Ms Beinert. Like your friends from the Void for instance."

Wil frowned at the Doctor. "Believe me Doctor, those _things_ are most certainly not my friends. I came here to warn you about them."

"I should hope so!" the Doctor retorted indignantly, "The damn things only came here in the first place because they were following your ship! One of the little buggers stole my fluid links."

"And yet another bit of the Tardis breaks down," I muttered to myself, "why am I not surprised."

Jack and Wil grinned. Gwen looked confused. The Doctor glared. I shrugged at him. "Well it _has._"

"_Anyway"_, the Doctor continued in his We-Have-More-Important-Things-To-Do voice, "the state of repair of my ship is not the issue here. The fact that idiots are crossing realities again is." (Hah. More like a state of disrepair of you ask me.)

Wil snorted in disdain and muttered something that sounded like "hypocrite". Personally I agree with her. The Doctor has a tendency to follow the 'Do as I say, not as I do' philosophy a lot of the time. He can be an awful hypocrite without noticing it. Not that he'll pay much attention if you call him on it, apart from a shrug, a "Well, yeah but . . ." and a quick change of subject.

###

For Example: Rules to know when travelling in the Tardis. (Contributed to by various UNIT personnel, who I met recently.)

Interfering in the history of another planet is forbidden. **Unless the Doctor is bored- D. MJ. **(Apparently, this is what got the Doctor kicked off his own planet and exiled to Earth for a century. But I wouldn't advise asking about that. Gallifrey is now an extremely touchy subject. Since, you know, it uh, burned.)

Crossing into established events is strictly forbidden. **Except for cheap tricks, because the skinny nuisance is such a show-off - D. MJ.**

Explosives are dangerous and guns are very bad. **Except when he calls up UNIT because he needs firepower. Not that five rounds rapid ever works anyway. Why are humans the only species in the galaxy vulnerable to bullets? - B. A. G. L-S.**

###

Well, you get my point. The Doctor, as great as he is, can be a bit of an arrogant prat sometimes. But anyway, moving on. More important stuff to talk about. Such as what the creatures that were currently our impending doom actually were. I asked the Doctor this and he got a shifty sort of look on his face for a minute and then admitted that they didn't have a name, as such.

"Say what?" I said. (Yes, I am not the most eloquent of people. So sue me.)

"You mean you don't know what they are?" asked Jack.

The Doctor shook his head slightly. "Oh. No, I do know what they are, we just never gave them a name that's all."

"We?" queried Gwen, still looking a bit the worse for wear from her experience with the Doctor's (lack of) driving skills.

"The Time Lords" the Doctor clarified. "Those creatures turned up, oh ages ago, jumped into this reality and started to eat everything. So we chucked them into the Void."

I blinked. "How can you chuck something into a void? Doesn't the word void mean nothing? So you can't have a void by definition, because if there's something there then it's not a void. Right?"

Jack looked at the Doctor, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Y'know, she's got a point. The Void contains these creatures, not to mention cybermen and Daleks, so it's not really a void, is it?"

"Oh, is that where the Cybermen went?" Gwen chimed in curiously, "I wondered about that."

He-Who-Makes-It-Up-As-He-Goes-Along sighed and gave us all a long-suffering look. "Alright, alright," he admitted tetchily, "technically the Void is not, in fact, void. But I had to come with a name quickly enough to explain why you shouldn't drill a hole in reality to a bunch of idiots who built a multi-story tower block solely for the purpose of doing just that, ok? Happy now?"

Jack attempted to give He-Who-Was-Stressed-Out a comforting pat on the arm. The Doctor gave Jack a dirty look and said there'd be time for that later. He-Who-Once-Died-Of-Sugar-Overdose requested that statement in writing, whereupon he was the recipient of an extremely exasperated look from the Earth's resident Time Lord.

I decided it was high time we got back on track. So I waved a hand in front of the Doctor and Jack's faces to get their attention (I am not short! They're just freakishly tall! Got it?) and asked how we were going to get rid of the Nameless-Creatures-That-Eat-Everything. (Furthermore known as the Eaters for convenience's sake.)

The Doctor shrugged. "Haven't got a clue, he said.

"You gotta be kidding."

"Nope. But I'm sure I'll come up with something," the Doctor said confidently, "It was a Time Lord who banished them before after all. I'll figure something out."

While I groaned that we were all doomed and how if we were going to be eaten then the Doctor was going to be starters, I distantly heard Wil murmur "Fascinating! He's almost exactly like the Doctor I know," to Captain Jack. Jack smiled charmingly at her and asked if she'd introduce them. Gwen and I shared a look and sighed.

And then an Eater tried to, well, eat us.

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Hah! An update! I'm on a roll! Review please!


	5. Interlude: Pete's World

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.

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_Pete's World. _

Rose Tyler looked at another expense report from lab five and sighed. She loved her sort-of Time Lord/Human boyfriend/fianc, really she did, but every time she saw the monthly expenses and the cost of yet again refitting all the lab furnishings, she wanted to strangle him. The Doctor seemed to feel that if an explosion at least three times a month didnt damage his lab then he wasn't doing his job properly. Unfortunately his fascination with incendiary devices drove his sort-of girlfriend/fianc up the wall.

The problem was, that even though the Doctor had made great progress in adjusting to a half-human body, he still neglected to listen to his human survival instinct. The thought of personal danger and the fact that an explosion could kill him rarely occurred to a man who was used to regenerating. He'd already nearly been hospitalised three times, a fact which worried Rose greatly. The Doctor was still part alien after all, and if certain people found out about it then there_ would _be trouble.

Rose would defend her Doctor to the last of course, but she was still a gentle person at heart, her expertise with Anti-Dalek guns notwithstanding, so she didn't find the prospect of hitting a lot of people across the head enjoyable. She sighed again, tucked the report back into the proper file and walked out the door of her ridiculously expensive office. (There were perks to being one of Torchwood's top two advisors on alien species.)

Walking smartly into the lift Rose jabbed the button for the lowest floor and then leaned back against the wall as the lift began to move, letting it's muted hum lull her half asleep. Ten floors later the lift doors opened with a _ping!_ and Rose straightened up and headed determinedly for the lab that currently contained the love of her life.

Three seconds later a muffled explosion made her start running.

###

The Doctor grinned happily at the complicated set of machinery sitting on the biggest table in his lab. Having fallen through this universe's Cardiff Rift, it had promptly been boxed up by Torchwood Three and sent to London for examination by Canary Wharf's resident expert on alien technology i.e. him.

So now, he had on his desk a Vriolian star-engine that was in mint condition. He swung around on his chair, reaching for a socket wrench. Behind him, the alien machinery started to whir and tick. Oblivious to the sudden activation of the machinery, the Doctor continued to search for his tools, sticking his head in various drawers and cupboards.

Abruptly, the machine kicked into overdrive and let out a high-pitched whine. The Doctor pulled his head out of a closet and squinted at the engine thoughtfully . . .

_Boom!_

Smoke and steam filled the room, making it impossible to see. The Doctor waved his hands in a futile attempt to clear the air, but only succeeded in smacking his hand across the smouldering remains of the alien engine.

"Yeowch! Hot, hot, hot, hot, hot!"

The door slammed open and a voice yelled "Doctor! Are you okay?" before trailing off. The Doctor heard a resigned sigh and grinned through the thinning smoke as he recognised the figure of his favourite person.

"Rose!" he declared enthusiastically. "Look! It's a working Vriolian star engine!" He paused. "Well, when I say _is_ I mean _was._ Obviously." He paused again, his face brightening up. "But anyway, isn't it magnificent?"

Rose's irritated expression signalled to the Doctor that she didn't agree. "No?" he ventured cautiously.

"No."

"You're angry."

"No."

"Yes, you are."

"Maybe a little," Rose admitted, "I jus' wish you'd be more careful tha's all. You've only got one life now, you know. I don' wanna lose you again."

The Doctor smiled tenderly at her, wrapping Rose in a hug. "Don't you worry Rose, I'm not going anywhere. Like I said before, all I plan on doing with this one life of mine is spending it with you. Things just . . . escalate . . . on me sometimes."

Rose grinned suddenly. "Maybe we need to find you an assistant."

The Doctor gasped in mock outrage. "Are you saying I need a _babysitter,_ Miss Tyler? I have nine hundred years of experience in here, you know!" he said, tapping the side of his head.

"Yeah, but your body's less than a year old. You're technically a kid."

"Oi!"

* * *

Har, har, an interlude! It'll become relevant later on, you'll see. Reviews? Please? With cherries on top!


	6. Lost Fluid Links: Entry 19&20

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who.

* * *

**Entry 19: No dinosaurs allowed.**

**_Last time in the journal of Sam!!! The combined Teams Tardis and Torchwood were in grave danger!! Will they escape? Or is this the end for our heroes? Tune in next ti--- _**

Note to future travelling companions of the Doctor: Should you decide to keep a journal, never ever let one Captain Jack Harkness get hold of it. Especially when he's on a 60s Batman kick. (Oh Adam West. What horrors you have unwittingly unleashed.)

_Anyway,_ back to what I was writing last time before He-Who-Dies-In-Increasingly-Bizarre-Ways got hold of my journal. As you know, we were all standing around in front of Wil Beinert's Tardis and being told once again that the universe was in 'terrible danger', when the terrible danger itself decided to turn up and attempt to eat us. Which is apparently all the little vaguely-dinosaur-shaped things do.

Didn't sound worthy of a planet-wide panic to me though. At least, not until the Doctor happened to mention that the Eaters were pretty much unstoppable by normal means and the last time they'd turned up, it had taken the rather impressive powers of all the Time-Lords to get rid of them. Only now, they're back. And instead of a planet full of the masters of time at the height of their powers, all we have is one repeatedly traumatised 900 yr old Time Lord who is rapidly burning through his regenerations and who I sometimes wouldn't trust with a sharp object.

Yep, we were in a lot of trouble.

Not that I managed to think all that in the split-second after the Eater appeared, of course. No, I was far too busy yelling "Crap!" and running for the door of Wil's Tardis, like everyone else.

As usual, Jack did his hero thing and fired his gun at the Eater to buy time, before following us in and slamming the door behind him. Loud snarling sounded from outside, and the door of Wil's Tardis shook as the Eater slammed against it. As the door banged repeatedly, I cast a nervous glance at Wil.

"So," I said, trying to sound casual and hide the fact that I wanted to scream like a five-year-old and hide behind Captain Jack, with his coat over my head, "what, uh, kind of defences does this ship have?"

"Enough to hold off the Eater indefinitely," Wil assured me. I breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, I think so," she added. Cue my mental groan and inner chant of "We're all _doomed_." The Doctor grinned at me. So now I'm not positive as to whether or not he can read minds. Great, inn'it?

To our mutual relief, the slam of the Eater's body against the door abated. Unfortunately, a second later, there was a loud ear-piercing sound of metal being torn in two.

Jack went white and turned towards the Doctor. "Please tell me that thing hasn't started eating the SUV," he begged.

The Doctor gave him a sympathetic look. "Sorry Captain," he said, "I think your jeep has hit the end of the road."

Jack growled and checked his gun. "Those things are going down!" he vowed. "A man's car is sacred!"

Gwen, Wil and I shared an exasperated glance. "Men!" we said in various tones of exasperation, disgust and despair. Jack and the Doctor shot hurt looks at us.

"_I_ don't go on about cars," the Doctor protested when I glared back.

"No," I reminded him. "You take me to the Boston aviation and space-travel museum in the fifty-first century and then talk at length about every _single_ exhibit." (Don't let him get started on different types of spaceships. Don't. I would not put it past him to be the kind of guy who spends hours making models of them all. )

Captain Dead-Again Harkness blinked in surprise. "Aren't there more than a thousand exhibits in that museum?"

"Yes. We got lost in there for four days before the security guards rescued us. Thank God for gift shop candy, that's all I'll say." (_So many ships. So many . . . _Excuse me a minute; I have to go curl up in a traumatised ball._)_

Wil cleared her throat delicately. "This is, ah, fascinating. But we should really discuss what to do about the Eaters, yes?"

The Doctor, who had been leaning back against the wall, jumped to his feet. "Right you are, Wil! May I call you Wil? (Insert bewildered redhead nodding here) So, Eaters!"

And just as he was about to launch into one of his I-Have-A-Brilliant-Plan-To-Save-The-World speeches, a phone rang. Jack gave us all an apologetic look, flipped open his phone and wandered off to the other side of the room, leaving He-Who-Has-An-Overdeveloped-Sense-Of-Drama standing there with his mouth hanging open. I am proud to say I resisted the urge to point and laugh.

I did snicker a bit, though. I guess the Doctor is used to the idea of the Captain dropping everything to follow his orders. Getting interrupted because someone else wanted Jack's attention is clearly a new one. When the Doctor is in the room the Captain usually saves all his attention just for him. Anyway, the caller turned out to be Ianto, who was waiting patiently at the hub. Or at least he had been, right up until an Eater appeared right inside Torchwood's main base and tried to eat their pterada . . . _pteranodon_.

To the surprise of all concerned, the Eater had come off the worst in the ensuing fight and Myfanwy had, well, eaten the Eater. Or was in the process of doing so anyway, a fact which caused a flabbergasted look to appear on He-Whose-Spiky-Hair-Resembles-A-Lethal-Weapon's face. Apparently something else eating an Eater wasn't supposed to be possible.

Jack pointed out that a pteranodon living in the twenty-first century wasn't supposed to be possible either. But, you know, giant hole in time and space. So . . .

Gwen looked at him sceptically. "So, you're saying that the rift gave Myfanwy super powers?" she asked, the disbelief clear in her voice.

Jack shrugged. "Well . . ." he drawled, "I wouldn't put it quite like that, but who knows?"

I opened my mouth, but before I could say anything the Doctor caught my eye. "Don't even think about it," he warned. "No pets aboard the Tardis. Especially not super powered dinosaurs!"

"Aww . . . please?"

"No."

"Excuse me?" Ianto's voice echoed from Jack's phone.

"Yes?" Jack answered.

"Another one of those things has appeared sir. Please tell me someone has a plan."

The Doctor's grin was restored to its former glory. "Well, now that you mention it . . . "

* * *

**Entry 20: Torchwood's Dinner Guest From Hell**

Please Note: When the Doctor says he has a plan, that's a good thing for the world, but not for you personally.

Please Note 2: The plan itself will probably be downright insane.

Please Note 3: All of Captain Jack's common sense flies out the window when he is around said skinny Timelord.

Please Note 4: If something nasty happens to you because you ignored the three previous notes, I will not be held responsible. I _tried_ to warn you, okay? I wrote it down neatly in big letters. I did my best. So don't come complaining to me.

Okay then. Now that I've left a momentous warning for future generations of time-travellers, let's get back to the story.

So anyway, there we were inside Wil's Tardis with Ianto on the other end of the phone about to be eaten by a thing from the Void. (Am I the only one who thinks that place needs a new name? Now that we've, yknow established that it's not actually a void.)

**You're never going to let it go, are you? - D**

Not if you don't _stay the hell out of my journal!!_

**All right, all right, sorry. -D**

_Out!!!_

_Like I was saying_, He-Who-Has-No-Respect-For-Privacy had just declared that he had a brilliant plan a.k.a. a completely mad idea that was going to put us all in copious amounts of danger and probably get Trouble-On-Legs killed or at least leave him in dire need of regeneration, the stupid sod.

**Oi! Language Missy! -D**

Stay. Out. Of. My. Journal. Or. There. Will. Be. _Consequences. _Like a repeat of the YouTube Fiasco.

**O-O ----------D**

Good.

Right. Now, back to the story. So, anyway, Ianto was swiftly advised by Jack to get out of the central hub and down to the Vaults, whatever the hell they are. Probably where Torchwood keeps all the good stuff, like the huge laser guns and so on. In any case Jack seemed to think the God-Of-All-Hot-Beverages would be safer down there.

The Doctor of course had to prove he was smarter than Jack and pointed out that normal weapons don't work against the Eaters. Cue Jack saying: "Yes. That's why we've got storerooms full of highly advanced weapons from across time and space instead. Besides, they can't be that tough if Myfanwy ate one."

Cue the Doctor pulling a sulky face and muttering under his breath about super-powered pteranodons. (I've still not given up on convincing him we should get one. I figure eventually he'll compromise and let me have a cat.)

Anyway, once he'd gotten over his temporary sulk the Doctor turned to Wil and suggested that we land her Tardis inside Torchwood, so that he could be near equipment that might be used to temporarily shut down the Rift. This, of course, was all part of the afore-mentioned big plan. Which, by the way, _was_ totally insane. (One day I'm going to start betting with people on how crazy the Doctor's plans can get. I bet I'd make a mint.)

But I'm digressing. Where was I? Oh . . . yeah. Trouble-In-Pinstripes and Mysterious-Redhead had started jumping around the Tardis console, pushing buttons, pulling levers and generally making a lot of noise. They looked like they were having fun though.

Wil's Tardis started up, the glittering column in the middle starting to move up and down, filling the room with a silvery glow. Oddly enough, instead of the groaning, drunk elephant that's seriously in distress sound that The Doctor's Tardis makes, Wil's Tardis only emitted a sort of tinkling bell sound.

Hearing this, the Doctor's face became awed and he glanced over at Wil. "This Tardis . . . how old is she?" he asked reverently.

Wil shrugged. "I'm not really sure. My Jack grew her from a piece of coral in his office. I think he got it from my Doctor and then of course the maturation rate sped up due to, well, _circumstances,_ shall we say? So . . . a couple of years old. Not more than four."

Jack's face developed a grin best described as 'roguish'. "Your Jack, huh?"

Wil flushed and the grin doubled in size. Luckily for Wil, the Doctor came to her rescue. "Stop it," he told the Captain firmly. "There's no time for your appetites now."

"So would anyone be interested in a meal later?" Jack said suggestively. It was at this point that I decided he needed help focusing, so I whapped the Captain across the back of his head.

"So we're in a baby Tardis?" I asked Wil while the Captain gave me a hurt look, half trying to understand and half just looking for a change of subject.

"Essentially, yes. Grasshopper is an infant compared with the Doctor's Tardis."

"Grasshopper?" Gwen said in confusion.

"My Tardis," Wil explained. She smiled briefly. "It's a private joke between the two of us."

The Doctor looked scandalised. "You _named_ a Tardis."

"No," Wil disagreed, "she named herself."

The Doctor mouthed silently, as if he was too shocked to get the words out. Then he pulled hard at a lever and the Tardis juddered abruptly and clanked. "Alright," he said in upset tone. "We're here."

"That's great and all," Gwen said, "but isn't there a crazy Eater out there?" She looked over at Jack. "How's Ianto?"

Jack held up the phone and Ianto's voice echoed from it, confirming that he hadn't been turned into starters in the Eater's three-course meal. Apparently the Eater had declined to follow him down to Torchwood's Vaults-With-A-Capital-V-'Cos-They're-So-Scary-And-Ominous. Which of course meant that Gwen was right. The crazy dinner guest from hell was right outside the doors of Wil's Tardis. Again. Whoop-de-freaking-doo.

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Yay! I haz updated! I can haz reviews?


	7. Lost Fluid Links: Entry 21&22

Disclaimer: Insane people aren't allowed to own Doctor Who. That's me out then.

Wil is the property of Laura Harkness. Go read her stories. You will not regret it.

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**Entry 21:**

Want to know the problem with keeping a private journal when you're travelling through time and space? Okay, to be honest you probably don't, but I'm in that kind of mood, so I'm telling you anyway.

Okay. Here's the problem: The Doctor is the most curious, hyperactive, erratic person in the entire universe. If he figures out that you're keeping something a secret, then he wants to know what it is _right now._ He is not above snooping through your things to find out.

This particular tendency of his was why I'd asked the Tardis to help hide my journal in the first place, but alas, since this_ is_ the Doctor we're talking about, my attempt was doomed to failure before I'd even begun. Bummer.

Still, out of desperation I hid my journal once again as soon I was sure the Doctor was out of sight. Problem was, this time I hid it so well that by the time I wanted to write in it again, _I _couldn't find it and had to ask the Doctor for help. Of course, he found it within five minutes and had a cursory flick through it without so much as a 'by-your-leave' before I managed to grab it off of him.

So today's moral is: Don't try to keep secrets from the Doctor and don't write your private thoughts down in a journal that he's bound to find and read within seconds of you starting it.

However, since he's already read all of this journal, I may as well continue it, I suppose.

Anyway, last time I wrote in this thing, I was halfway through the whole 'Eater' incident, right?

Right.

As you know, everyone (_sans_ Ianto, who was hiding in the Torchwood Vaults) was inside Ms. Wil Beinert's Tardis, which was inside the Torchwood Hub. And unfortunately for us there was an omnivorous monster from before the dawn of time right outside the door. _Again._ I suppose, given the number of times the Doctor's Tardis has landed near something potentially lethal, I really shouldn't be surprised that Wil's tardis did the same. Must be programmed into all timeships : Thou Shalt Always Land In Immediate Proximity To Whatever Causes Your Passengers Maximum Harm. Gaah.

The one supposedly bright spot in all of this is that the Doctor a.k.a He-Who-Pulls-Save-The-World-Plans-Out-Of-Thin-Air has a _plan._ (Didn't see that coming, did you?)

The plan involves the Doctor and Wil using a hypersonic pulse of kragiryan radiation (no, I've never heard of it either. Sometimes I think he makes up his technobabble explanation words on the spot.) Apparently the weird type of radiation, (which is harmless to humans and Time Lords. Convenient, that. . . ) is harmful, or at least extremely objectionable to ravenous dinosaur things from the beginning of time. Like a bad fart, the Doctor said.

I think his analogies need work.

Anyway, He-Whose-Explanations-Are-Headscratchingly-Bizarre and Wil got to work pulling levers, pushing buttons, twirling dials and so on. There was a flash of light, the Doctor yelled 'Aha!' and pulled hard on a particularly long lever and then the most awful screech you could imagine echoed through the hub. The there was a crash and the sound of something big falling and cracking. Jack shot the Doctor a suspicious glance.

"Doctor. . ." he said carefully.

"Yes, Jack?"

"I've been through more than my share of warzones in a hundred-plus years. . ."

"Yes, Jack?" the Doctor repeated, though his voice now held a sort of I'm-Not-Responsible-You-Can't-Prove-Anything tone.

"So. . ."Jack said slowly, drawing out the word, "I happen to recognise the sound of falling masonry when I hear it. Have you two just destroyed part of my base, and if so, are you going to pay for the repairs, or are you just going to avoid me for the next hundred years?"

The Doctor rubbed the back of his head nervously and gave Jack a hyper grin that had a worried edge to it. So I decided that then would be a good time to look out the door and check if the Eater was really gone. Wil and Gwen, after a glance at the nervously grinning Time Lord and the glaring immortal, decided to follow.

I looked out the door and glanced around. Dust was raining down from above and I turned to look at Gwen when she swore. Wil and I followed her gaze and looked up. There was a large hole where the lift flagstone used to be.

"It looks as though your pteranodon's escaped," Wil observed placidly.

"Oh, bloody hell," Gwen repeated.

"Yeah," I agreed.

Just then, the other Tardis' doors opened behind us and Captain Jack emerged wearing a pleased smirk. (Yes, yes I _know. _But this was different to his normal expression. Honest.) The Doctor followed him out. I wasn't sure, but for some reason I felt as if he looked like he was sulking.

"So," Jack said importantly, "what's our status, Gwen."

Gwen rolled her eyes at Jack's 'in charge captain-ness'."What's it look like?" she said flatly. "There's a bloody great hole in the roof."

Jack waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry, we're getting reimbursed for that. Now, any idea which way the thing went?"

"Oh. Is it gone?" Ianto's voice said, echoing from Jack's mobile, which was still on speaker.

"Yep," I called out , swiping the phone out of Jack's hand. "You can come back up now. It's been chased away."

"Sure about that?" Ianto asked, sounding a bit sceptical. Not that I blame him really, since the Eater had just managed to appear smack in the middle of Torchwood's supposedly impenatrable base.

"Positive!" I called. "The Doctor chased it away with a fart."

There was a startled "He what?!" from the phone as Ianto processed my answer. The Doctor on the other hand, glared at me before massaging the bridge of his nose.

"What?" I said innocently. "That's what you said." Behind me, I heard the sound of a certain immortal captain trying not to snigger.

The Doctor sighed pointedly. "Sam," he said, in a long-suffering tone, "remind me to explain the concept of a metaphor to you someday."

"Oh I know that one," I assured him. "It's a lie."

"Please stop quoting Discworld?" he asked me hopefully.

"Um, no."

"Drat."

"Ahem," Wil coughed, interrupting our increasingly juvenile conversation. "Shouldn't we get moving. We need to go down to the vaults and get that equipment." The last part of her sentence was directed towards the Doctor, who stared blankly for a second before he remembered there was a world-endangering crisis in the works and he didn't really have time to be discussing my quoting habits.

"Oh, right," he said vaguely, still somewhat distracted. "Right. Let's get a move on. Vaults are this way, are they Jack?"

"Whoa, hold on a minute," the Captain said, confused at the sudden unexpected turn of the conversation. "What do you mean 'get equipment from the vaults? What are you two on about?"

"Oh didn't I mention?" the Doctor said with air of one in whom's mouth butter would not melt. "To get rid of the Eaters we're going to have to borrow some equipment from the Torchwood Vaults. Don't worry, you won't miss it. It's only the highly dangerous temporally displaced type that you really shouldn't have anyway. I may as well hang onto it permanently really, you won't be needing it back."

"Uh, huh?" Jack said, not sounding at all convinced. "And how exactly do you know that the Torchwood Property (I could practically hear the capital letters) in the Vaults is what you need?"

Beside Gwen and I, Wil shifted uncomfortably and cleared her throat. "We, ah, took the liberty of scanning the Vaults while we were arranging the hypersonic pulse," she said apologetically. "It was just to check that Ianto was okay, really!"

"You scanned my vaults without asking?" Jack said, grinning at Wil and raising an eyebrow suggestively. "I feel oddly violated."

"_Captain!"_ the Doctor said exasperatedly. "Stop it!"

"Make me," Jack said, giving the Doctor a challenging look.

The Doctor sighed in apparent despair. But then his expression lit up. Seeing it, I swallowed nervously. He was wearing his _'I've just had a great idea which is bound to end up getting us arrested'_ face.

"Alright Captain," He-Who-Is-Always-Plotting-Something said sweetly, "if you go twenty-four hours without making a single innuendo I'll take you out to dinner."

"Provided the Eaters haven't already made dinner out of us," I muttered.

"Right," He-Who-Had-Just-Lost-His-Mind said.

Jack immediately spat on his hand and held it out. "You've got a deal!" he beamed, looking as if all his dreams had just come true.

"Anyone want to bet how long he lasts?" I asked the girls. "Fiver says three hours."

"My tenner says less than two hours," Gwen said immediately.

"Twenty says five hours," Ianto said, having heard us over the phone which I was still carrying.

"I'll take that bet," Gwen said confidently. "Could do with an extra twenty."

Wil cocked her head to one side for a moment and closed her eyes. Then she opened them. "Fifty quid says he makes it," she said with a rather mysterious smile.

"Done!" we chorused.

"Oi!" the Doctor yelled at us. "if you're all done gambling could you get a move on please?" He and Jack were already halfway to the door leading to the vaults. We hurried after them.

As I fell in beside the Doctor, he muttered "put me down for five quid before an hour's out."

"Right," I muttered back, making a mental note.

_The entry ends abruptly with the writing in the last few lines looking increasingly faded, as if the author's pen was running out of ink. You turn the page and find that when the narrative begins again, it is written in flourescent pink. There is an unhappy D: doodled in the top corner. Clearly the author does not appreciate the colour._

**Entry 22:**

"So Doc," I drawled as we finally came to the door of the Torchwood Vaults (which as you might expect was huge and shiny and ominous with a dozen complicated locks on it) "what exactly is the plan? You never said."

"Well maybe if_ somebody _hadn't interrupted me, I would've," he said sulkily, clearly still a bit peeved that Captain Jack had chosen to answer Ianto's phone call rather than pay attention to his big exposition moment. (I swear, he's such a child sometimes. It's like talking to a five-year old.)

"Yeah well, whatever," I said, waving my hand vaguely. "We're all ears now. Aren't we guys?" I asked, looking around at everyone.

There was a general chorus of assent and the Doctor brightened up. He really does like being the centre of attention.

**That is totally untrue. I am very humble. Shy and retiring, that's me. - D**

Mmm hmm.

**What's that supposed to mean? – D**

Nothing. Nothing.

**Humans! – D**

Mmm hmm. Stop defacing my journal. I'll sue.

"**. . ."**

Right, back to the story (again). There we all were, standing outside this massive vault door, which looked like it had more locks and security systems surrounding it than Fort flipping Knox. So we wait as the Captain begins to enter numbers on the little keypad beside it.

Meanwhile, the Doctor cleared his throat importantly and finally got to launch into an explanation of his big plan. "Right," he began importantly, "the Eaters are invading this reality and escaping the Void." I opened my mouth and He-Who-Hates-Being-Interrupted paused briefly and shot a look in my direction. "Yes I know it needs a new name. _Not_ exactly a priority right now."

I shut my mouth.

"Anyway," the Doctor continued, "like the Cybermen and the Daleks who came through the Void –_Don't-even-think-about-it-Sam_- the Eaters are going to be covered in Void Stuff."

"Void Stuff?" interrupted the Captain questioningly. He was still entering numbers into the keypad.

"Highly attractive particles from the Void that cause a magnetic effect which affects anyone exposed to them," Wil explained to him. "If the Void opens, anything covered in Void stuff gets dragged back in."

"That's why we're going to open the Void to get rid of the Eaters," the Doctor added casually.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on a minute there Doctor," I said. "I distinctly remember you saying that if the Void was ever opened again, two universes would collapse. Not to mention, aren't _you _covered in Void Stuff. We open anything and it'll be Goodbye Doctor!"

"That's only a slight possibility," He-Who-Has-No-Concept-Of-Personal-Safety said dismissively, waving his hand vaguely in the air.

"Are you serious?!" Gwen demanded, her tone of voice contriving to convey that she really, really hoped not. "You just said that the Daleks and the Cybermen were stuck inside this Void. And you want to open it?"

"Yep."

Gwen looked accusingly at Jack, who was still entering numbers into the little keypad beside the Vault door. "You never said he was crazy!"

The Captain shrugged. "Thought it was so obvious that it didn't need saying."

"Oi!" the Doctor cried, sounding highly insulted. He shot a hurt look in Jack's direction.

The Captain shrugged.

"_Anyway,"_ He-Who-Pulls-Insane-Plans-Out-Of-Thin-Air said, "it's not quite as crazy as it sounds. Really, it's not!" he added when the Captain gave him a dubious look. "When those idiots (_that's the Doctor's name for Torchwood One - Ed._)decided to open the Void before, they went at it like someone using a jackhammer to put one nail in a wall. We're going to do it a bit differently and a lot more safely, since we have two Tardis's at our disposal, not to mention all that highly advanced equipment in the Vaults, provided Jack gets the door open sometime before the weekend."

Cue annoyed glare from the Captain who was still entering numbers into the little keypad, a fact that had me slightly worried. In my experience, the more security something is behind, the more dangerous it is. Which, by the way, is the reason the more savvy Evil Overlords out there tend to shove the Doctor in the deepest darkest dungeon they can find. I figure they have some type of Evil Instinct(tm) which tells them the Doctor is highly dangerous.

(Although why they always insisted upon throwing me in after him, I don't know. I'm not dangerous at all. Apart from the personal space issue thing. But that's minor.)

**Minor huh? Tell that to the guy with the snake in his head. - C. JH**

That was an isolated incident! And he totally deserved it!! . . . Wait a minute, how did you know about that? You weren't there! And stop writing in my journal! I swear, you leave your personal belongings out for _one_ minute and the next thing you know, people have scribbled all over them. I should invest in a padlock.

Anyway, the_ point _is that He-Who-Is-Pathetically-Bad-At-Hiding-His-Crush-On-The-Walking-Fire-Hazard had been entering enough pass code to shut down the security of several banks, the UNIT Archive, Fort Knox and quite possibly the Pentagon, with the local post office thrown in for free. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what kind of equipment was behind that door.

Ten minutes later, we were still waiting and Jack was still entering the pass code.

The Doctor started tapping his foot.

Jack (who was _still _entering numbers) glared at him. "Oh like you could do this any faster."

Right on cue, and to my complete lack of surprise, out came the sonic screwdriver. The Doctor pointed it straight at the keypad, did a complicated little adjustment to the screwdriver settings and then pressed hard on the screwdriver's 'activate' button. The high pitched ring of the sonic screwdriver in action filled the air. The lights above the keypad flashed briefly. The Doctor grinned with satisfaction.

Then the keypad's display flashed the words Access Denied and a computerised voice announced "Warning! Vault Security under attack. Initiating Defence Protocols."

"Oh _thanks _Doctor," Jack said sarcastically. "You've just jump started the lockdown protocols. Thanks a bunch. Now it's gonna take hours to get this thing open."

The Doctor sulked and started muttering about how defence protocols that could stand up to the sonic screwdriver didn't belong in this century anyway and that any Time Agent worth his (oversized) wrist-strap would've safely deactivated them years ago. Then he segued into a general low-key rant about Torchwood which I'd heard a million times ( you'll get to hear it too, trust me,) so I sort of tuned him out for a bit.

"Ahem," Wil said, coughing politely.

"Yes?" Captain Jack said.

"Can't Ianto open the Vaults from the inside?" she enquired.

Right on cue, the computerized voice announce "Protocols Over-riden. Access Granted."

The door slid open and Ianto Jones smiled at us. "Anyone for coffee?" he asked innocently.

* * *

An update! Woohoo! Reviews?


	8. Lost Fluid Links: Entry 23&24

Disclaimer: Me no own. BBC no sue.

_

* * *

__As you turn aside another page of the curious journal that you found in the Tardis Library, you find that the next page revealed is covered with some very odd stains. In the top corner of the margin there is a sentence scribbled in red marker. You peer at it curiously and find that it is some sort of warning and a memo rolled into one. It says: Note to self: don't let him eat the pancakes with the Kaverian jam. The cyberdines are infectious. Time Lord allergies. Not Pretty. _

_In the middle of the page, instead of a journal entry, there is a pasted in photograph of three people standing in front of a seaside promenade. You recognise the Doctor and the brown-haired girl that you now know is Sam, the author of the journal. The other person, a handsome, square-jawed man with black hair and sparkling blue eyes, is unknown to you. Unlike the Doctor and Sam, who are both dressed in 21st century fashion, the blue-eyed man's long military greatcoat looks more appropriate for the 1940s. For a second you wonder if he was perhaps an old time film star. Then you catch sight of the handwritten caption beneath the photo._

_WARNING: The hot guy in the blue coat is Captain Jack Harkness, former conman, former time agent, current head of Torchwood 3 Cardiff. DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES ACCEPT HYPER-VODKAS FROM THIS MAN. HE IS FROM THE 51ST CENTURY AND HAS THE CONSTITUTION NECESSARY TO DEAL WITH THEM. YOU DON'T! Failure to heed this warning will result in public humiliation and the mother of all hangovers. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!_

**Entry 23:**

Okay, so by this point the Doctor's dignity and general over-confidence in his own superiority (which he doesn't often put on public display, but believe me, it's there) had been severely shaken by one Ianto Jones, Officer of Torchwood Three. Which is probably why He-Who-Insists-He's-So-Much-Smarter-Than-Stupid-Apes walked straight past said Torchwood Officer and straight into the vault which the God Of Coffee had so helpfully opened, without saying anything.

We all followed him quickly and thus I got my first and to date, only, view of the interior of the Torchwood Vault. And I have to admit, the place kinda deserves that capital V. It is not just any old vault. It is a _Vault. _Big, dark and creepy, with rows upon rows of scary looking stuff in glass cases, not to mention the creepy living specimens in the big tank. Jack claimed they're actually deep sea fish native to earth and the Doctor agreed with him. I don't believe them. Those are some creepy fish.

Anyway, we trailed after He-Who-Rushes-Eagerly-Into-Scary-Places, who apparently knew exactly where he was going as he didn't hesitate once. I know Wil had said they'd done a scan of the Vault to find useful equipment, but I still find the fact that the Doctor didn't need to ask Captain Jack for directions even once highly suspicious.

**So do I- **

. Have you successfully gotten your mind out of the gutter yet?

**Yessss. . .Okay, no. **

Then get out of my journal.

**Awww . . . **

Out. Now.

**You still haven't forgiven me for the Hyper-vodka incident, have you? You need to get past that, y'know? It's not like you were the only one who got in trouble. The Doctor wouldn't speak to me for **_**hours. **_**It was devastating.**

It was what you deserved for being stupid enough to offer alcohol to a seventeen-year-old who has an annoyingly over-protective Time-Lord as her self-appointed father-figure. Now get lost.

**Oh fine, Ms. Cranky-pants. **

Okay, _anyway, _moving on. Eventually we stopped in front of a row of metal lockers. I think Jack knew exactly what was in them because he gave the Doctor a quick 'Are-You-Sure?' look. The Doctor just nodded, so Captain Jack shrugged and began to once again input numbers into a keypad. Figuring this would once again take a while, I yawned and sat down on the floor, ready for a long wait.

The locker door clicked open less than ten seconds later. Don't you just hate irony? Or is that Murphy's law? I get those two confused a lot.

Anyway, once Jack got the locker door open we all had a look inside. Both Gwen and Ianto went a little pale at the sight of the weird machine that was standing inside the steel box, which didn't exactly make me feel all sunshiney and happy either.

"Oh no," Ianto began, "Jack? Is that what I think it is? Tell me we're not going to use that again. You do remember what happened last time?"

"Yes, 'course I do," Jack replied, with a 'so what?' shrug.

Gwen chose to turn to the Doctor instead of Jack. "Are you insane?" she wanted to know. "You want to open the rift as well as the void? Are you _trying_ to get us all killed."

"Of course not," he assured her with a big grin. "I have a perfectly good plan. We'll all be fine."

NB: Do not believe a word he says when he's grinning innocently and saying everything will be fine. He may not be lying on purpose, but 99% of the time he gets proved wrong. Things will not be fine. They will explode with worrying regularity.

Anyway, everyone else was getting all excited by this weird piece of machinery, which to me, looked more like some sort of demented play-doh tool than anything else. So of course I asked: "What is that?"

"It's the Rift Manipulator," Ianto explained, ever the information guru. "It can be used to, well, manipulate the Rift. But its results can be dangerous and unpredictable. Last time we used it, Jack died."

Which I guessed sort of explained why Gwen and Ianto were so horrified at the thought of using it again. Except. . . "Doesn't he do that, like, twice a week?" I pointed out, ignoring Jack's indignant "Hey!" in the background.

"Not like this!" Gwen said emphatically. "He was dead for three days!"

I blinked and looked at Jack. "Seriously? You died and came back after three days? That's very. . . biblical. I wouldn't let the Vatican hear about this if I were you. They might take it a little funny."

"No kidding," Jack groaned. "The last thing I need is to have another cult worshipping me. That was bad enough the first time."

Everyone stared at him.

"Don't ask," the Captain told us. "You _really_ don't wanna know."

"Anyway," the Doctor interrupted, bringing our attention back to the situation at hand, "whatever problems you may have had with this machine in the past are moot. I can get it run smoothly, so there should be no danger of Jack dying. Theoretically anyway."

"You're not exactly filling me with confidence here Doctor," Jack said.

The Doctor waved a hand dismissively. "Barely a one percent chance of you dying Jack. Besides, it's not like it would be permanent."

"True," Jack admitted.

"Okay," I decided. "You're both crazy." I turned to Wil, who had been silent so far. "Look," I said, "you appear to have a drop of common sense. What, exactly, are you and the Doctor up to? I thought we wanted to open the Void, not the Rift."

"Yes," Wil said," but in order to hide from the Eaters that we are opening our own hole in the Void, we have to seal it inside of a bubble of Rift first."

"Right," I said, nodding as if I totally understood. "Hands up everyone who is still completely confused."

###

_The Entry ends abruptly. Half the page is missing and the jagged edges of the top half are stained with some sort of sweet smelling red-brown substance that looks far too much like dried blood for your liking. You hesitantly turn the page._

###

**Entry 24:**

You know what would be really nice? If some people (who shall remain nameless, haha) would refrain from dropping their stupid alien jam sandwich on top of other people's property. It took me ages to clean it off and my journal is still going to smell of jam forever. Gah! Stupid Time Lords and their stupid randomly occurring lack of hand-eye co-ordination. (Honestly, how hard is it _not_ to drop your sandwich open face down on someone else's dia- I mean, Journal. Definitely a Journal and not a diary. Yes.)

Anyway, long story short, despite the misgivings of Gwen and Ianto and the utter confusion of moi, Wil and He-Who-Insists-He's-Not-Certifiably-Insane convinced us to help them lug the Rift Manipulator back to the main boardroom of the Hub. (Okay, yes, being five foot three and not exactly muscled, I did not do much of the actual lugging. But I still helped! By, you know, holding doors and stuff.)

When we got back to the boardroom. . . well, there was still a freaking big hole in the roof. What, you were expecting it to be magically fixed? Also, there was no sign of the pteranodon. I wasn't sure whether that was good or bad.

Okay, so the Doctor and Wil start hooking the Rift Manipulator (which I'm gonna call the RM from now on 'cos it's shorter than writing the whole name out) up to the Hub's central computer. Y'know, that mutated digital offspring of a CIA operations room and a Christmas tree that's smack in the middle of the hub?

Or maybe you don't know yet. But since if you're reading this, then you're travelling by TARDIS, you'll probably get to see it sooner or later when the Doctor has to refuel again.

And once again, I digress. But anyway, Wil was pressing important buttons, the Doctor was waving around his sonic screwdriver, various lights were flashing and there were regular 'beep' noises. It all looked very technical and impressive. It also looked like it was going to take a while, so I decided to go in search of food. It'd been a while since I'd eaten anything that wasn't chips.

Now, don't get me wrong, the Doctor does make sure all his travelling companions get more than enough to eat, but he seems to forget that humans can't live on chips alone. (Okay yes, so technically they can, but those particular people are going to spend a fortune on paying doctors to treat their heart disease later in life.) Anyway, when he does bring you somewhere that serves something besides chips, the food tends to be a little . . . alien, shall we say?

I mean, I do trust the Doctor and I know that he'd never let me eat food that might poison me. But really, chips or multi-coloured crab meat and orange waffles?

Is it too much to ask that we go out for a steak once in a while?

I swear there was a valid point in here somewhere. . . Oh yeah, my point was, that since there wasn't much for me to do and since I was currently on earth and probably in the vicinity of recognisable food, I should take advantage of that fact. So I did.

Of course, Captain Jack wasn't about to let a civilian wander around the Hub unsupervised, friend of the Doctor's or no, so Ianto came with me. Not that I had any problem with that. Having a very polite hot guy show me around wasn't exactly the most terrible fate ever.

Surprise, surprise, though the Torchwood staff look as if they exist solely on coffee, they actually have a kitchen which Ianto showed me to and told me to help myself while he made more tea and coffee for everyone. So I busied myself with a nice sandwich and waited either for Ianto to finish with the drinks or for the inevitable explosion that occurs whenever the Doctor gets involved in anything remotely technical.

Impressively enough, Ianto managed to finish making the drinks before the inevitable explosion made the shelves rattle, and I was able to saunter back into the boardroom with my mug of tea in hand. Coffee-God hadn't been at all perturbed by the explosion and calmly handed around the coffee from his little tray.

Gwen and Jack thanked him, though Jack was a little strained sounding. The Doctor swiped the other mug of tea on automatic. There was a shocked look on his face which always meant trouble. I turned my gaze in the direction he was looking and blinked in surprise. The RM had apparently been successfully hooked up to the main computer. One of the computer screens was active, and the Doctor was staring at it. I stared too.

There was the Doctor on the screen. He was wearing a blue pinstriped suit and standing behind a table with some very complicated alien looking technology on it. Next to him was a blonde woman a few years older than me. The Doctor (that is, the one standing in Torchwood Hub with us,) was staring at them in shock. "Doctor?" he asked, in a disbelieving tone. "Rose?"

At this, I narrowed my eyes at the couple on the screen. (And they were a Couple, believe me. They were giving off that kind of vibe. And considering I was feeling it from the other side of a screen, I kinda dreaded to think what it might be like experiencing it first hand. I cannot stand lovey-dovey people. They make my brain hurt.

So, blonde girl was apparently Rose. And from the Doctor's tone of voice this wasn't any Rose. Nope. This was _the_ Rose, to whom there had been occasional cryptic references followed by the Doctor looking miserable before changing the subject completely. I have to admit, I wasn't that impressed by what I saw. She looked, y'know, normal.

I was a little confused for a second, wondering what the Doctor was so shocked about if he was just watching some old home video with Rose in it. Upset, yes, that I could understand, but why he was so shocked I had no idea.

At least until the Doctor on the screen caught sight of me and gasped "Sam?"

"What?" I said in surprise, as at the same time, a voice exactly like mine said, "yes boss?" from the other side of the screen.

The owner of the voice then moved into view and I'm pretty sure that at that moment my expression mirrored the Doctor's perfectly. Because I was staring at a brown haired girl with glasses, about the same age as Rose. And she had _my_ face.

* * *

So yeah, 15things is back. Reviews?


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